Days Go By
by Ms.Orange21
Summary: COMPLETE Cameron is sick of House's sarcasm. But she's not herself lately. House trys to figure out what's wrong. And it takes a wide left turn from there. Just read! : Reviews make me happy and write more! CHAPTER 17 UP!
1. Monday

Title: Days Go By 

Summery: Cameron gets sick of House's sarcasm.  
Spoilers: Up until "Control"  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: You know I don't own it! I play.

_Author's Note: I know exactly where I am going with this story. So if you like, and if you want me to continue let me know! Review! It's appreciated! Thanks!_

**Monday**

It was Monday morning and it was raining. Dr. Allison Cameron stared out of the conference room window sipping her coffee.

"_They like you. Everyone likes you."_

"_Do you like me? I need to know."_

"_No."_

"_Okay."_

She sighed and closed her eyes. She had to stop beating herself up over that. What the hell made her ask him that? She had no idea. But the more she though about it, the angrier and more humiliated she got. Why was his approval so damn important? Cameron raised her hand and rubbed her temple. God her head was killing her.

"Hey, Cameron. How's it going," Dr. Foreman asked, joining her in the conference room.

She turned around to greet him. "Hanging in there."

"What's up?"

"Nothing. Just a headache. Woke up with it," she said, taking a drink from her mug. "I took some Advil, but it doesn't seem to be doing anything."

"I swear by Motrin. Try that later if it doesn't let up."

"I'll do that," Cameron replied, giving him a small smile. She looked around. "Where's Chase? He's not normally late."  
Foreman laughed. "Car trouble."

"Oh. Car trouble. I see."

As she raised up her much to finish off her coffee, she saw Dr. House coming towards the conference room. She had done a good job at avoiding him the past week, and she was in no mood to see him now. Quickly finishing her coffee, she got up and said, "Well, I have some files I have to take care of…." She trailed off, swaying in her spot for a second.

"Cameron?" Foreman asked. "Are you okay?"

"Just a little queasy," she said tightly. "I'll be okay." She closed her eyes for a second.

"And how are we on this fine morning," Dr. House said, entering the room.

"Oh god," Cameron said, and darted over to the garbage pail to empty the contents of her stomach.

"Hmm. I've never had quite that effect on a woman before."

Foreman glared at House as he brought her a glass of water. "Are you going to be alright?"

"I'll be fine. The milk I put in my coffee was probably old."

"Or it could be morning sickness. Are you pregnant maybe? You have been seeing that nice young doctor in peds."

Cameron glared daggers at House. "I am NOT pregnant. Not that my sex life is any of your concern!"

"So you're not getting any then, huh?"

Maybe it was her headache or her stomachache, or maybe she was sick of worrying about what House though, but at that moment something in her snapped.

"Oh like you should talk!" she yelled. "When's the last time you had sex? Do you even remember how? Jerking off to a Victoria's Secret catalogue doesn't count! What's your problem Dr. House?" She grabbed her lab coat and started to storm out of the room. She stopped in front of House and looked him dead in the face. "Erectile dysfunction maybe? Do you need Viagra instead of Vicodin? Or maybe," she said, her voice dangerously low, "your leg wasn't the only part injured by your infarction." Then she turned on her heel and left.

"Uh—Good morning?" Dr. Chase said from the doorway.

"You're late," House growled and limped out.

"Am I hallucinating," Chase asked Foreman, "or did Cameron just go crazy?"

"I don't think 'crazy' even begins to cover it."


	2. Thursday

Title: Days Go By 

Summery: Cameron and House face off again.  
Spoilers: Up until "Control"  
Rating: PG, maybe PG-13  
Disclaimer: You know I don't own it! I play.

_Author's Note: All of your reviews gave me warm fuzzies inside! Thanks so much!_

_To Emma Peelfan: I know Advil and Motrin are the same medicine, but for some reason, Advil does nothing for me, while Motrin is like a wonder drug and my mom is exactly the opposite! LOL Don't ask me why it is but it is! _

**Thursday**

Cameron had successfully avoided House since Monday. But since then, her headache turned into a migraine. And it didn't go away. She sighed and rubbed her temples. The pain migrated down into her whole upper body, and on top of that, she kept getting this awful frog in her throat that she had to keep coughing out. _Great time to get a cold, Allison_, she thought. _I just need some rest. I'm getting too run down._ How could she rest, though when her head—god, her head was splitting. She had to see if she could get something—anything to help with the pain, otherwise she was never going to get any work done. Foreman had mentioned Motrin. So she headed downstairs to grab some prescription strength ones from the pharmacy. _Why not? House does it all the time.  
_

_+_

_How long does it take to count out 6 pills,_ Cameron though tapping her nails on the counter.

"Well, well. Fancy meeting you down here," came a voice from behind her.

_Oh crap. _ She grabbed her pills and turned around slowly. "Hello Dr. House," she said, smiling sweetly. "Is it time for a Vicodin refill already?"

"Oh no. It's not what you think. Viagra," he replied, shaking the bottle.

Cameron rolled her eyes and started to walk away.

"Now if one didn't know better," he stated to her retreating back, " I'd say you were avoiding me."

"Don't get a big head. I've been busy."

"Busy avoiding me."

"It's not always about you Dr. House! Now if you'll excuse me, I have things to do."

"Tell me, Dr. Cameron. What bug crawled up your ass and died?"

"The same one that's be residing up yours for the past few years. Why don't you stop analyzing me and look in the mirror?" She stormed away, but a wave of dizziness stopped her. She leaned against the wall to steady herself and felt a hand under her elbow to help. "I'm fine," she said, shaking out of House's grasp. "I just moved to quickly."

"Cameron, what the hell is going on with you?"

"Oh, what do you care! You don't even like me, remember?"

His eyes clouded as he thought back to that moment last week. "Is that what this is about," he asked with a laugh. "All this hostility?"

Her eyes burned with unshed tears. She didn't feel too hot. He admitted he didn't like her. Now he was laughing at her. Her chest hurt with the pain of it all.

"Fuck you, Dr. House," she said and walked off.

"Cameron!" House started after her. "Cameron—Allison, wait!" He grabbed her wrist to stop her.

"Please let go of me," she said between clenched teeth.

He was looking at her wrist with a funny look on his face, and ignored her comment. Then he slid his hand up her sleeve and laid the back of his other hand across her cheek.

"Christ, House," she said, slightly taken aback. "What do you think you're doing?"

"You are coming with me right now," he said in a stern voice, taking her by the arm.

"What? No. Leave me alone!"

"Now, Allison," he commanded, pulling her towards the clinic.

_A/N: According to WebMD, migraines can last for as long as a few hours to 3-7 days._


	3. In The Clinic

Title: Days Go By 

Summery: Cameron and House face off again, part 2!  
Spoilers: Up until "Control"  
Rating: PG, maybe PG-13  
Disclaimer: You know I don't own it! I play.

_Author's Note: All of your reviews gave me warm fuzzies inside! Thanks so much!_

_To neptuneskiff: I know what you mean about the emails! I love the little ones that tell me you have a review! LOL_

_To CherokeeLaday and Katie: So sorry to hear about your migraines! Hope you both don't suffer too much! Take care of yourselves!_

**In The Clinic**

How could he not have seen it? Looking at her sitting on the exam table, he saw how her eyes were sunken in surrounded by circles, the paleness of her skin, the hunch of her shoulders.

"What?" Cameron asked as House stared at her. "Going to fire me now?"

"How long have you been like this," he asked, ignoring her.

"Been like what?"

"How long have you been feeling ill?"

"I've had a migraine for a few days. That's all."

"What about the aches?"  
She stared at him. "How did you know—"

"You're all hunched up. You are obviously trying to find a position that doesn't hurt."

"It's just pain radiating from the migraine."

"And the queasiness?"

"Migraine."

"Do you run a fever with a migraine?"

"Fever?"

"Cameron, your wrist was burning up when I grabbed it. So was your arm and face."

"Well, in some cases—"

House cut her off. "It's highly unlikely and extremely uncommon that a migraine would cause a fever." He walked over to the counter and rummaged through a drawer. "Hold still," he commanded, brandishing the tympanic thermometer.

**BEEP**

"So you mean to tell me," he continued, "that your migraine is causing you to spike a 102.3 degree fever."

Cameron closed her eyes and sighed. She had never even bothered to check her temperature.  
"When was the last time you ate?"

Thinking for a second, she said, "I had some tea and toast this morning."

"I meant real food."

She looked at her feet swinging off the side of the table. "Monday morning before I came in."

"And we know where that wound up."

"Ha ha."

"It wasn't meant to be funny."

"Look, Dr. House," she said getting up off the table. "I'll be fine. I probably just picked up a bug from a patient. I haven't been sleeping much, and I have been swamped here. I'm just run down."

"That 'bug' you picked up happens to be a nice case of influenza."

Cameron scoffed. "I don't have the flu. I have a cold."

"Aches, nausea, loss of appetite, fever, and congestion." She gave him the evil eye. "What? You sounded stuffy."

"I feel okay," she insisted one more time.

"Give it another day, and when you start hacking up a lung, then you can tell me how 'fine' you feel."

"Can I go now?"

"Yes, You can go home and actually take care of yourself," he said, getting up and opening the door, " or I will admit you to this hospital. Your choice." House closed the door behind him.

_A/N: Flu symptoms can include:_

_Fever of 100 °F(37.8 °C) to 104 °F(40 °C), which can reach 106 °F(41.1 °C) when symptoms first develop. _

_Shaking chills._

_Body aches and muscle pain (often severe), commonly in the back, arms, or legs._

_Headache._

_Pain when you move your eyes._

_Fatigue, a general feeling of sickness (malaise), and loss of appetite._

_A dry cough, runny nose, and a dry or sore throat. _

_Nausea and/or vomiting._


	4. Sunday

Title: Days Go By 

Summery: House dwells on what happened during the week  
Spoilers: Up until "Control"  
Rating: PG, maybe PG-13  
Disclaimer: You know I don't own it! I play. Songs owned by The Who and Elvis Costello.

_Author's Note: Hmmm… only 4 reviews on that last chapter. Not feeling the love so much anymore  Did that last chapter suck that badly? LOL_

_Sorry bout the shortness of the chapters. It's been 2 years since I wrote anything; I'm a bit rusty. I'm also working my way towards something and they should be getting a bit longer. And yes, Allison was always going to get the flu. Sorry if I fooled you all into thinking she had some mysterious disease! Like I said, it's all part of my plan!_

**Sunday around 12pm**

It's been almost two weeks since the incident and he still couldn't get over it. He was still in disbelief. He couldn't believe that fat, stupid bastard. How dare he. Touch. His. I-pod. Turn off The Who. **THE WHO**! In House's book, that was a sin of some kind of sin. Bastard.

Of course, the only reason that he remembered that little episode was because he was thinking of Cameron. He kept thinking about when she asked him... No! House was not going to dwell on that anymore. He wouldn't let himself. It wasn't right. But he cared about her; he was extremely worried about her. She was running a very high fever and it was probably going to get worse for at least another day or two. And he didn't want to think about that. So he drudged up the memory of Volger, or Fat Bastard, as he liked to call him. In violent protest, House was now blasting "Tommy" quite loudly. "Eyesight to the Blind" was now pounding through the speakers. He closed his eyes and soaked it all in.

_**You talk about your woman,  
I wish you could see mine.  
You talk about your woman,  
I wish you could see mine.  
Every time she starts to lovin'  
She brings eyesight to the blind**_

_**You know her daddy gave her magic.  
I can tell by the way she walks.  
You know her daddy gave her magic.  
I can tell by the way she walks.  
Every time we start shakin'  
The dumb begin to talk. **_

_**She's got the power to heal you,  
Never fear.  
She's got the power to heal you,  
Never fear.  
Just a word from her lips  
And the deaf begin to hear.**_

_Ah, crap_. House thought when the song ended. If that song doesn't fit Cameron…

Shit. Now he really couldn't get her out of his head. That song fit her perfectly—from the way she walks down the hallways, to the way she heals patients.

House got up to change the cd. He was not going to think or worry about Cameron anymore.

What was he in the mood for? Stones? Elton John? Led Zeppelin? U2? Nah. Not in the mood. He shuffled through some more discs. Aha. Elvis Costello. Nice.

He popped the cd in, pressed random, poured himself some scotch, and sat back down to relax. He closed his eyes again as the music started.

_**Oh it's so funny to be seeing you after so long, girl  
And with the way you look, I understand that you are not impressed.  
But I heard you let that little friend of mine  
Take off your party dress.**_

_**I'm not gonna get too sentimental  
Like those other sticky valentines,  
'cause I don't know if you are loving somebody.  
I only know it isn't mine.**_

_**Alison, I know this world is killing you.  
Oh, Alison,  
My aim is true.**_

_**Well,**_

House got up and nearly broke his finger pressing the stop button. "Even my stereo is against me," he muttered out loud. Why did everything remind him of her this weekend? "Fine." He picked up the phone and punched in Chase's pager number.

"I can't believe House wants me to check up on Cameron," Chase muttered to himself pressing the buzzer to Apt. 3b.

"Who is it," came a very tired, raspy voice.

"Cameron, it's Chase. How are you feeling?"

Cameron sighed and laid her head on the doorframe next to the intercom. Just what she didn't want. Company.

"Much better," she lied. "The fever is down."

"Can I come up for a bit?"

"Uh, no… actually I was just heading off to sleep a bit more. Still very tired."

"Are you sure? I can make you some soup or something?" Chase cringed. Make her soup? _House had better appreciate this._

"No, don't worry about it. I'll see you tomorrow at work. Bye."

"Bye."

Chase got out his cell phone to call Dr. House.

"She said what?"

"She said that she was feeling better, that her fever was down, and that she was coming in to work tomorrow," Chase replied. "But she still sounded like death to me."

"Stupid woman! How did she ever become a doctor?" House sighed. "Good job, Chase. See you tomorrow." He hung up.

Did she even know what would happen if she tried to come to work before she was recovered? She'd get even worse and then would definitely have to be admitted to the hospital.

If that was the was she was going to be, so be it. And since he couldn't get her out of his head anyway, something had to be done. He picked up the phone and started to dial Cameron's number. Then he paused and hung up. He grabbed his coat and cane, and walked out the door. Cameron was getting a house call.


	5. Visitation

Title: Days Go By 

Summery: House makes a home visit to Cameron.  
Spoilers: Up until "Control"  
Rating: PG, maybe PG-13  
Disclaimer: You know I don't own it! I play.

_Author's Note: Warm fuzzy feelings are back!  Sorry about all the typos and if the story seemed to run together in the last chapter. When I upload the story, page breaks and italics and bold always seem to get left out. I fiddle to fix it and by time I post it, it's worse than before. SIGH!_

_To ollie xox—sorry! I always meant this to be a House/Cameron fic. Hope you like it anyway!_

**Later that Sunday**

**KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK**

Cameron groaned from the couch. It was probably her neighbor from down the hall, Mrs. Johnson, trying to bring her some more soup or tea. She had zeroed in on her the minute she came home sick on Thursday and insisted on nursing her back to health. Except right now, Cameron didn't want to deal with anyone.

"Mrs. Johnson, I'm not up for any company. Please come back later!" she yelled out. "Thank you!"

All was quiet for another minute.

**KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK**

_What the hell? Maybe if I ignore it, she'll go away._

**BANG-BANG-BANG**

The knocking turned into full force hammering.

"OKAY!" she yelled. The pounding on the door did not help the pounding in her head. "Just stop with the knocking!"

Cameron got up from the couch slowly, still feeling the aches in every part of her body. She wrapped the blanked around herself and shuffled towards the door. Taking a deep breath in to calm herself, she opened the door and said, "Mrs. Johnson, really I don't need"

Abruptly, she slammed the door shut. _Okay, maybe the fever is making me delusional. I swear I just saw Dr. House standing outside my door._

She opened the door again. He was still there.

"Do you greet all your guests like this?"

"How did you get in the building," Cameron asked, ignoring him. "I didn't buzz you in."

"Well, that lovely Mrs. Johnson you were yelling about," he said, brushing by her and walking into the apartment. "Very chatty. She was on her way out to get her 'poor, sweet Allison' some juice. She kindly let me in to see you." He took off his coat and sat down.

"I didn't say you could stay!" She really, REALLY didn't need this right now.

"I heard you chased Chase away—" He paused. "Chased Chase. Heh."

"Because I am not feeling well and I do not want any company! You of all people should understand that!" She was a bit unsteady on her feet as she made her way back to the couch.

"Why don't you sit back down before you pass out?"

"Why don't you leave," she retorted. "If haven't noticed, I don't want any company, especially you."

"Oh, that hurts, right in here," he said sarcastically, tapping his chest.

"Fine. Whatever. Stay. I'm going to sleep."

"Good. You need the rest."

"Whatever," she mumbled again, closing her eyes.

House waited a minute, then got up to find the bathroom. He looked in her medicine cabinet—nothing good. Just some Advil, Claritin, eye drops, toothpaste. There were two small, tubular plastic cases on the bottom shelf. He was looking for a thermometer so he could take her temperature. Grabbing one, he opened it. "Ugh," he said, recapping it instantly. Just what he didn't need to see. Tampon holder with said tampon. Very few things give him the willies. That was one of them. He picked up the other tube carefully and slowly opened it. Jackpot.

"House, what are you doing? Get back in here and stop snooping around my apartment!"

"I was just looking for a thermometer so I can see how you're doing," he said, walking back into the living room. Cameron gave him a look that said she didn't believe a word he said.

"Look, see?" he said, brandishing the thermometer. "Now open up."

She obediently opened her mouth. "Now, this will take a few minutes. I'm going to make some tea. You do have that don't you?"

She roller her eyes and pointed to the kitchen.

After everything for the tea was set up, House made his way back to the living room. He took the thermometer out of her mouth. "102.7. I thought you told Chase your fever went down?"

"So I lied. I didn't want to see anybody." She looked up at him. "I still don't."

"Tough. Your fever has actually gone up a touch. Now you're stuck with me." He looked around. "Do you have a fax machine anywhere in this place?"

"Yes, over by the computer. It's part of the printer. Why?"  
He was rummaging in his coat pocket. "I'm going to fax over a prescription to the local pharmacy. It's still early enough that they'll deliver. Bingo," he said, little blue pad in hand. "How did that Motrin you got from the hospital do?"

Cameron lowered her head. "I left it there by accident," she said, sheepishly.

House just looked at her. "You have got to be kidding me. Okay, Motrin 600 mg it is. It should help with the aches and fever." He wrote out the prescription. "What's the local pharmacy?"

"Lincoln Pharmacy. 555-2800."

He quickly called in the order and limped over the to fax to send over the prescription. "It should be here in an hour, give or take."

"Good. My head still hurts, so be quiet for once. Or," she said with hope, "you could leave now."

"Fat chance little girl."

"Whatever. Just let me sleep."

"Do you know any other words than 'whatever'?"

"Yes. 'Get out' is a large part of my vocabulary."

Cameron rolled over and closed her eyes. So House decided to take a self guided tour of the apartment. Until he realized that he had seen it all: the kitchen, bathroom, and living room. Not a very large place. Something across the room caught his eye, though. It was an upright piano. "Do you play, Cameron?"

"Play what?"

"The paino."

"No."

"Then why do you have one?"

"Because it's pretty."

"That's a lie."

"So what."

"Why, then?"

"Why? Why won't you shut up so I can sleep," she said, irritated, turning around and looking at him. He was just looking at her. Cameron sighed. "It was Brian's, alright? My husband. He used to play all the time." Her voice caught in her throat. "Now please let me rest."

At that moment, the teapot whistled. House silently made his way into the kitchen to take care of it. Cameron was thankful for the break. She closed her eyes and tried not to think about Brian. Or House.

When House came back into the room holding two cups of tea, Cameron was fast asleep.


	6. Fever

Title: Days Go By 

Summery: House makes a home visit to Cameron.  
Spoilers: Up until "Control"  
Rating: PG, maybe PG-13  
Disclaimer: You know I don't own it! I play.

_Author's Note: Reviews give me a happy! Keep on dropping me those notes! Pretty please with House on top? LOL_

**Later that Sunday**

Cameron had been sleeping for a half an hour when the medicine came. _Good,_ House thought. _Time to start working on getting her fever down._

He limped over to the couch and sat down next to her. She was muttering in her sleep, but he couldn't hear what she was saying.

"Cameron, wake up. Time for some yummy pills." Nothing. "Cameron!" He tapped her cheek with his hand, then letting it rest there for a second. She was burning up.

"Brian?" She sat up, her eyes flying open.

"No, it's Gregory House, remember? The guy you hate?"

"Brian, where did you go?" She was looking around, but her eyes were wide and unfocused.

_Shit. She's delirious._ He had to lower her fever now.

"We were going to start a family remember? Get a dog and everything."

"Allison, look at me." House had to get those pills in her. He shook out 2 of the Motrin and grabbed her chin, forcing them in her mouth. "Take a sip," he said, taking her cold cup of tea. Thankfully, she swallowed it all. Cameron drifted off again, once again muttering incoherently.

House thought for a minute. The fever had to go down and quick. He went into the kitchen and filled a bowl with lukewarm water. The bedroom was right next to the bathroom, so he brought the bowl in there and put it on the bedside table with some washcloths. Now came the hard part.

"Allison, look at me." He shook her gently. "You have to get up."

She opened her eyes slowly. "Who are you? Where's Brian?"

House sighed. This was not good. "I'm a doctor. He brought me here to take care of you. Now can you walk?"  
Cameron nodded. "I think so."

"Good we need to get you to lie down in your bed, okay?"

"Okay."

This was going to be tricky. He figured since Cameron would help his balance, he could put his cane down. So he looped one arm around her waist and they both stood up slowly and started to make their way to the room.

"How are you feeling," House asked after a few steps.

"A little light headed… but okay."

She took two more steps and went limp. House tried to keep them both from falling, but was unable. In the process, his bad leg collided with a coffee table. Why the hell was there a coffee table in the goddman hallway? His eyes closed as a wave of nausea hit him, and bursts of blue and black shimmered behind his lids in time with the throbbing pain.

_We're just going to lie here for a second…_

He got up slowly, using the offending table to leverage himself. Cameron was still out cold on the floor. How the hell was he going to get her in bed now? The room was only a few more feet away. Gritting his teeth and ignoring the pain, he crouched down and scooped her up in his arms. Slowly, he stood up, using the wall as support against his back. Step, limp. Step, limp. Rest against the wall. Step, limp. Step, limp. Rest against the wall. Only a few more feet to go.

Cameron's head lolled around and she giggled, coming to. "Just like when we were first married."

House looked down at her as he stopped. _What the hell do I say to that?_ So he just gave a small smile and said, "Betcha I made it much faster that time."

"Hmmm." She turned her head looked him in the eyes. "House, what's going on?"

Great. Good time for her to become coherent.

"You're extremely ill, Cameron."

"Put me down," she ordered weakly. "I can walk."

"Yes. Last time you 'walked' you passed out."

"But your leg—"

"Is fine," he lied. "Now shut up."

After a very painful few minutes, he finally made it to her room and deposited her on the bed. She was once again out of it. He felt her head once more. She was still on fire.

"Just don't hate me in the morning, Cameron," he said as he started to take off her clothes, leaving her in her bra and panties.

"I could never hate you, House," she mumbled quietly.

He stopped cold. Those words tore at him. They tore him up real good. Why did it have to be her?

House pushed all his thoughts aside and started to wipe her down with the water. Along with the Motrin, the evaporation of the liquid on her skin should help cool her down. He washed her from head to toe, and then left her uncovered on the bed to dry. Then he made his way very slowly back to the living room to get her some water and grab his cane and a Vicodin.

Now all he could do was sit and wait.


	7. After the Storm

Title: Days Go By 

Summery: Cameron wakes up…  
Spoilers: Up until "Control"  
Rating: PG, maybe PG-13  
Disclaimer: You know I don't own it! I play.

_Author's Note: Sorry 'bout the lack of updates and if the chapter is a little short. Art imitates life. I've been fighting a 102-degree fever since Easter. My head feels like it's going to explode. So humor a poor, sick writer. Send some love my way : - )_

_To telegramsan: Yes, it's quite possible that he should, but then that would ruin the rest of my story! And because House is a kick ass doctor! Plus there really isn't much you can do for the flu, maybe an antiviral medication or something depending on the strain, but you kind of just have to ride it out. Lots of fluids! In the hospital they'd stick her on an IV drip to keep her hydrated. I also had to take care of my mom last year when she had the flu so bad she was delirious. Hence the idea for my story._

_To Augusta: Not sure about embarrassing things, but she's sure as hell still gonna be bitchy LOL_

_To gentlepeace: Well, I just didn't want her completely naked, is all. Maybe she didn't want to be flopping around with Mrs. Johnson always visiting!_

**After the Storm**

Cameron was curled up on her side. God she felt icky was a good word to describe it. But thankfully the aches didn't feel so bad anymore. What she needed most right now was a glass of water; her mouth was all gummy. Cameron opened her eyes. There was a glass right on her night table. _Funny. I don't remember getting that._ Oh well. Moving as little as possible, she grabbed the glass and gulped half of it down. Then she noticed what time it was. 11:00 am. _Oh crap. _She didn't remember anything from the time House stopped by until now. She must have slept straight through from 3:00pm on. The fever must have broken recently; she felt sticky all over.

_Oh well. Better late than never, _Cameron thought, calling the hospital and leaving House a message that she wouldn't be in. Then she closed her eyes and sprawled out on her stomach, arms askew.

_What is that?_

There was something warm and solid under her left arm. She very gently felt around to try and figure out what it was. Then she looked up.

House was sitting with his back up against the headboard and his legs stretched out in front of him, reading a magazine. He looked down at her. "You know, Cosmopolitan is really a fascinating piece of literature. 'The 10-Second Trick That Gets Any Woman There'. That could be useful." He glanced over. "Guilty pleasure, huh? I found it buried under all the medical journals."

Cameron jolted upright in a flash. "What the hell are you doing in my bed!"

House didn't answer her. He was too worried about her before to care about her state of undress, but after she was feeling around his lap, well… he was just a little more aware now.

She followed the trail of his eyes down her body. Squealing, she grabbed the covers and wrapped herself in them. "What did you do with my clothes, you asshole?"

He sighed. This could get ugly. "I had to get your fever down. You were sprouting out gibberish and kept passing out on me. So I patted you down with cool compresses." House regretted those words the minute they came out of his mouth. _Next time, rephrase!_

Cameron turned an interesting shade of purple. "You did _what_?"

"What would you rather I done? Let your blood boil in your own body?"

"You could taken me to the hospital or called an ambulance, not give yourself a private strip show!"  
"I prefer my strippers to be conscious."

"You are vile."

"Yes. Saving your life makes me vile. I understand."

"I would have been just fine if you didn't show up."

"What? Mrs. Johnson would have found you delirious and called 911?"

"Exactly." She got out of bed slowly and grabbed some clothes. "Anything is better than you."

"You're welcome."

"Go. Home. Now." She walked towards the kitchen to get more water.

_Stubborn bitch,_ House thought._ You shoot her down once, she hates you for life._ But for some reason, he didn't want her to hate him. She made him curious. She made him think. She made him… Well, he cared about her. A lot. It was a feeling that he hadn't felt in a long time. And it made him uncomfortable. He didn't know how to deal with it. So he very carefully got up and followed her.

Cameron walked out of the kitchen. "What part of 'go away' don't you understand?"

"What part of 'I'm trying to help you' don't you understand?"

"I never asked for your help."

"Not asking for it doesn't mean that it won't be offered."

She sighed. "This is getting us nowhere. I'm tired of all the arguing. Would you please just go?"

"No."

"House, don't make me call the police on you."

"What? Domestic disturbance? 'Sorry, officer. The lady with the flu beat up the cripple.' I'm sure that will fly with them."

Cameron let a little smile slip out with that one. _Aha. A chink in the armor, _House thought. _I better run with it._

"Now go sit down before you pass out another 3 or 4 times. Take some more Motrin. And you need to eat."

"I'm still not hungry."

"I don't care. You lose any more weight and those friends of yours that men of all ages love will go away."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest self-consciously and glared at House.

"What," he said. "They are only fat. Plus," he said, turning to go into the kitchen, "there's a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. It would be a pity to lose yours."

Cameron had to laugh as she sat down on the couch. "The Princess Bride. That's my favorite movie!"

"Aha! Hot, with good taste to boot. I knew I hired you for a reason!"

Banging echoed from the kitchen. "House, what are you doing in there?"

"Cooking."

"You can cook?" She giggled.

"Shut up."


	8. So What Now?

Title: Days Go By 

Summery: Now what happens…  
Spoilers: Up until "Control"  
Rating: PG, maybe PG-13  
Disclaimer: You know I don't own it! I play.

_Author's Note: To goodmorningstarshine: That review made my day! Never been someone's favorite author before! Yay_!

**Bonding Time**

Eggs, half a loaf of bread, half of a half-gallon of milk, some rice, and a package of chicken in the freezer. That's what was in Cameron's entire kitchen. _No wonder the girl is so goddamn skinny, _House thought. _There's no food here!_

He decided to scramble her some eggs and toast. That should be light enough for her stomach to handle. As he was cooking, he caught his reflection in the microwave door. God, he looked like hell. He sniffed the air. He didn't smell too nice either. Usually, he carried some extra clothes and necessities in his car for emergencies. House decided to go downstairs to get his stuff once Cameron was settled.

"Here you go, madam. Eggs and toast."  
Cameron scrunched up her face. "House…"

"I don't care. Eat. And I would have made something else—if there was something else."

"I've been laid up for the past week. I haven't been able to shop," she said, face reddening slightly.

"Excuses." He cleared his throat. "Can I have the keys to this place?"  
Giving him a suspicious look, she asked, "What for?"

"I'm feeling unsanitary. I keep some extra items in my car and I was going to run downstairs to get them—"

Upon seeing Cameron's raised eyebrows, he said, "Fine. Hobble downstairs to get them. Are you taking insult lessons from Cuddy?"

She laughed and threw him the keys. "Watch out for Mrs. Johnson."

"Who? The one who dotes on 'poor, sweet Allison'?"

"Yeah. Watch her. She's a shark."

He opened the door to head out.

"Oh, House?"

"Yes?"

"You can take a shower if you want when you come back up. Soap and water I have plenty of."

"Oh. Thanks." He closed the door behind him.

_House naked in my apartment, _Cameron thought after he left. _Am I insane? _She felt her face get hot._ Crap. I think my fever's coming back. Yeah. That's what that is. _

She sighed and tried to force down some of the food.

>>

A shower sounded really good to House right now. But all he could think about was Cameron showering in the same spot. How could he… where she… girly smelling soaps… He sighed. It was Monday. It's been over 24 hours and he felt grotty. He could always go home and come back. No, that would waste too much time. He would have to go home eventually, though. Just not now. That was it. He had to shower.

No more thinking about that. He was still worried about Cameron. She needed to eat more and stuffing up on eggs wasn't going to cut it. As House grabbed his stuff out of the car, he had an idea. He remembered passing a grocery store a block away from Cameron's apartment. Looking at his watch he thought, _10 more minutes won't kill me._

_ >> _

"Since when do your 'necessities' come in a nice, plastic Shop-rite bag," Cameron asked as House came back about 20 minutes later.

"Considering you and I both need food and there was none here, I made a pit stop."

"The eggs were fine. I don't need more food."

"Yes, you do. You are fighting a fever and I'm friggin' starving. It may not be a rueben, but homemade chicken soup is just what you need."

"Fine. Just don't blow up my kitchen."

"Again, I say 'shut up'." House went into the kitchen. He defrosted the chicken in the microwave and started cutting up the carrots, celery, and onions he bought. He threw the chicken in a large pot of water and set the heat on low. Now, all he had to do was wait for it to boil. He grabbed a bottle from the counter and went back into the living room.

"Okay, let's take your temperature again," he said.

"I hate these things," Cameron muttered, obediently trapping it under her tongue.

"Be glad it's not rectal. Even though watching you take off your pants…" He trailed away as she flipped him off. "Oh. Obscene finger gestures from such a pristine girl."

She choked on the thermometer as she tried not to laugh. Taking it out of her mouth, she said, "How are you going to get a proper reading if you keep quoting from my favorite movies?" She looked at it. "100.5. Still a bit up."

"What can I say? I work, listen to music and watch TV. I'm a bit of a nerd that way. Did you take more Motrin?"

"Yeah just a little while ago."  
"Okay, we'll check your temp again in an hour. Here, drink this," he said handing her the bottle.

"What is it?"

"Gatorade. You've been vomiting and not eating. Water just doesn't cut it when you're not getting any calcium, sodium or potassium. You're probably mildly dehydrated."

"There is way too much sugar in this though!"

"What? Do you want Pedialyte or something? Not gonna work. You need the electrolytes. Drink."

"Can I at least get a glass?"

"No. Drink."

"Fine," she grumbled, taking a sip. "At least you picked a good flavor."

There was an awkward pause.

"So, Cameron," House said. "Is… ahh… the shower offer still available?"

"Yeah, sure. There are towels in the cabinet and shampoo under the sink."

He grabbed his bag and made his way to the bathroom. "I'll only be a few minutes."

"Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

>>

There he was, standing in Cameron's bathroom, one towel wrapped around his waist, drying his hair with another, and steam fogging up the mirror. This was strange to say the least. He should be home, in his own bathroom. He was quite shocked, though. Head and Shoulders and Irish Spring soap. Nothing at all girly. She just kept on surprising him. No wonder he was falling for her. He paused mid-dry. Falling for her. That's the first time he admitted it to himself. He had been avoiding it for months, telling her no, telling himself no. He couldn't deny it anymore. House sighed and finished drying his hair and got dressed.

"A few minutes? I know coma patients who shower faster than you," Cameron quipped as he walked out.

"What can I say? I was in shock there was no poofy thing that smelled of a fresh spring day hanging from somewhere in the bathroom."

"Ha ha. Simple girl. Simple things."

"You are far from simple."

"Thank you. I think. Anyway, come sit. You're missing the movie."

"Just let me go check on the pot in the kitchen. I don't need to 'burn it down' like you think I will."

House took the chicken out and shredded it. Then he threw it back in the pot with all the veggies he cut up. Nothing beats a fever like homemade chicken soup. Let it simmer for a few hours and voila! Instant relief.

"What did you put on," he shouted as he seasoned the pot.

**"INCONCIEVEABLE!"**

**"You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means." Came blaring from the living room.**

"Oh."

He finished up and went to join Cameron on the couch. "If I knew you were going to put on one of the movies I mentioned, I would have quoted from 'Debbie Does Dallas' or 'Deep Throat'."

"Shut up and watch, perv."


	9. Complications

Title: Days Go By 

Summery: Just read……  
Spoilers: Up until "Control"  
Rating: PG, maybe PG-13  
Disclaimer: You know I don't own it! I play.

_Author's Note: To everybody that has reviewed: THANK YOU: - ) Keep bringing them on!_

_Quotes from last chapter from "The Breakfast Club" and "The Princess Bride". Hope this chapter is up to par! I'm trying to keep them in character as much as possible, so if they're not, let me know._

**Complications**

Cameron stared at House while he cleaned up their soup bowls. She was amazed at his seemingly sudden generosity. Coming to check on her, take care of her, make her food. Soup from scratch, no less! He even had the sense to pick up some of those biscuits you just pop in the oven to have with the soup. It was a little unnerving to see him so—domestic. But he was still the same old grumbly, snarky self. So that evened it out a bit. She smiled at her thoughts. God, she loved—_Whoa, whoa, whoa there brain! Not love. You like him a whole damn lot, but not love……_

"Something on your mind? Or are you just admiring me in all of my manly glory?"

House's question brought her out of her reverie. Cameron shook her head to clear it. "Uh… No. I was just thinking how this is the first time I've seen you eat anything other than a ruben. Quite shocking."

"I do eat other foods, you know."

"Really? Go figure."

"Where did this smart mouth come from?"

"Well, considering who I've learned from…." She looked up at him and batted her eyelashes.

House opened his eyes wide in mock astonishment. "Moi? No!"

"Yes!"

"Well, gosh. What can I say? I'm honored."

They both made their way into the living room to relax.

"How are you feeling now?"

"Much better," Cameron admitted. "The food did help. Not to mention the Motrin."

"Temperature time. Open up."

"Fine."

"Hey, no complaining. Faster your fever stays down, the faster you get better, the faster you come back to work."

"Mmmmbbbmm."

"What," he said, taking out the thermometer. "99.2. Much better."

"I said 'Speaking work, weren't you supposed to be there today?'"

"I took a personal day. Told the wonder boys to page me if there was an emergency."

Cameron laughed. "Chase and Foreman? The 'wonder boys'? Great nickname."

House wandered over to the piano. "Yep. Or does 'boy wonders' sound better?" He sat down and started to play.

She closed her eyes when she heard the song. "_Fur Elise_," she said. "It's my favorite song. Brian used to play it all the time."

His fingers paused as he heard the sadness in her voice.

"No, it's okay," she said. "Don't stop. Please."

They were silent for a while as he continued playing. He knew he shouldn't ask, but he couldn't help himself. "Tell me about him. Brian. What was he like?"

"He was a very warm and loving person. Not a mean bone in his body. Kind to everyone. He wanted to be a teacher." She laughed. "Third graders specifically. Said they were the best age to teach." Cameron got up to sit next to him on the piano bench. "He even used the cheesiest pick up line on me when we met. 'Did it hurt falling from heaven?'"

House gave her a look that said, "You fell for _that_?"

She laughed. "I know, I know. But I thought he was so cute at the time, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt. And it wound up being one of the best choices I ever made." She gave a sad smile and her voice caught a bit. "He was also the strongest person I've ever known. Even after he was diagnosed, he never let it get to him. He was strong up until the moment he died." Cameron looked up at him and House saw the shimmer of tears in her eyes.

"He was a very lucky man to have you to take care of him," he said with sincerity.

"No, I was the lucky one. He made me a better person… and he's the reason I became a doctor."

"I wish I could thank him for that."

She tilted her head a bit. "You know, you remind me of him a little bit. You have the same kind of strength."

House saw where this was going. And as much as he wanted it, he had to avoid it. Things were complicated already. They didn't need to get worse.

"Yes… well," he said, "we defiantly don't have the same bedside manner. You know, with the niceness and all."

"Mmm. That's right. It's terribly awful of you to be taking care of me while I'm sick. What a horrible, horrible person you are."

"And you know it."

She smiled at him. God, how he wished she'd stop doing that! House never used the words "beam with pleasure" about himself, but every time she smiled at him, he did that—on the inside, of course.

He cleared his throat. "Well, it's getting late. You should get to bed and get some rest. You could probably come back to work in a day or two."

"Yeah, I still feel tired."

"Come on, I'll even tuck you in."

They walked down the hallway in silence. As Cameron was getting her things ready for bed, House said, "I should get going. I unfortunately have clinic duty tomorrow and if I miss it, Cuddy will throw a fit and I'll have to beat her down with my cane."

"House… You could… uh… " Cameron's stomach did a flip-flop. "You could stay—if you want. I have the room."

"Sorry, that couch did not seem like the most comfortable place to sleep."

"No… you can stay right here," she practically whispered. "And you know talking about… Brian…" She looked up at him… "You…."

"I am not a substitute for him," he said gently. Was that all she thought of him as?

"I know you're not. I never thought of you that way." How did tonight turn into a spill your guts episode? "You are something completely different, yet just as amazing."

"Cameron—you are still not feeling well. Why don't you just rest and we'll talk more tomorrow." He knew how she felt but was totally shaken by her admission. He had absolutely no witty comebacks or sarcastic comments. This was an almost deadly serious moment between them.

"No, House. I am totally in my right mind."

"Allison—"

"Just stay," she said cutting him off. "You can roll up a blanket and make a barrier between us if you want. Just don't leave. Please."

He broke. It was the "please" that did him in. Complications be damned.

So he kissed her.


	10. What on Earth Were You Thinking?

Title: Days Go By 

Summery: Just read……  
Spoilers: Up until "Control"  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: You know I don't own it! I play.

_Author's Note: Sorry about the mean cliffhanger peoples! But you might all hate me more now…Read and find out why…_

_To ACMD: That's actually a real pickup line. Got it off a list somewhere. Cheesy, but one of the sweeter, nicer ones out there._

_To Patricia L. Bryans: LMAO at the song. Cute, thanks!_

_To everybody else that has reviewed: THANK YOU: - ) Love you all! You make a writer feel so good!_

**What on Earth Were You Thinking?**

_Stupid, stupid, stupid, _House thought to himself. _Stupid for kissing her, even more stupid for just up and leaving!_

Yes, he did the worst thing possible after kissing a girl. He walked out on her.

**_So he kissed her. His wall crumbled and he just grabbed her. He couldn't help himself. And Cameron didn't help things by completely melting into his embrace. It was the most amazing thing House had felt in a long time. He pulled away and looked into her big brown eyes. Then it hit him. "Oh God, Cameron…I shouldn't have done that." He started to back out of the room._**

**_"__House—wait—"_**

**_"__I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…" He grabbed his coat and bag. "I have to go."_**

**_"Wait…House…wait one minute. Please don't—" The door slammed shut. "Leave," she whispered into the now empty apartment._**

At this point in time, he rated himself lower than dirt. Especially since she practically begged him to stay. Now what was he going to do? Not that he didn't want to kiss her. No, he didn't mind that one bit. There was the whole work issue. Things would get awkward. _That's right, Greg. Tell yourself that's the reason you ran away. It's a bit late for 'awkward' now, you moron._

The real reason was that he always winds up pushing people away. That's why he hadn't had a relationship since Stacy. That's why the only people who could take him were Cuddy and Wilson. Well, Cameron, too. Lately she has been giving as good as she got. He just didn't want to hurt her. _Again, it's a bit late for that!_

House sighed. No, those reasons weren't right. He felt the truth in his stomach like a lump of coal. He wasn't strong at all.

What it actually came down to was that he was a coward.

Things would get interesting when she got back to work.

**_Thursday_**

"Soooo… how was your weekend?" Dr. Wilson caught up to House as he entered the elevator.

"How on earth do you manage to get here so early? Do you sleep here?"

"Sometimes. Anyway, you didn't answer my question."

"Fine. Boring. Same old shit, different day."

"Hmm. I know you better than that. You didn't come to work on Monday."

"So? You weren't here on Tuesday and Wednesday. Were you at some big orgy and forget to tell me?"

"I was at a seminar. You took a personal day. You don't take personal days. You like to spend every minute torturing every person here in some way or another."

"I needed a break to think of new material."

"Mmmmhhhmmm." They exited the elevator and walked towards his office.

"And what is that supposed to mean," House asked.

"It means, 'I don't believe a goddamn word you say.'"

"Like that's anything new."

"Does this have to do with a certain someone who was out for a week?"

They stopped in front of his office and looked at each other. "I have no idea what you are talking about," House said and turned to go in his office. Then he stopped.

Cameron was in inside answering his mail.

"Aww, crap."

"I guess my assumption was correct," Wilson said with a triumphant smile.

"Shut up and come inside."

"Ooooh no. I want no part of this."

"Just help me out right now, and I'll tell you the whole story. Well, most of it."

Wilson thought for a minute. "Throw in lunch and you've got a deal."

"Fine."

They both entered the room.

"Good morning Dr. Cameron," House said as cheerfully as possible. "Glad to see you are feeling better."

"Hey, Dr. Cameron, good to see you up back," said Wilson. "Foreman and Chase were starting to get boring having only each other to pick on all week."

Cameron got up to leave the two men alone. "Thank you, Dr. Wilson. Nice to see doctors who care about people around here." House cringed.

"That's why we're doctors," he said, glancing over at House.

"Yes. We take care of people physically and emotionally." Stress on the "emotionally". She opened the door to leave. "Have a good day, Dr. Wilson."

Wilson waited a minute after she left, turned to House and said, "What the hell did you do to her? She was colder to you than Antarctica!"

House sat down and put his head in his hands. "It's a long story."

Looking at his watch, Wilson said, "It's 9am. I don't have a patient until after lunch. Start talking."

* * *

"And then… we kissed." 

"We or you?"

"We… I kissed her."

"House, she had the flu."

House gave him a scathing look. "Obviously, that's the least of my worries!"

Wilson laughed. "Yes, I'd say you're right about that." He paused. "So what else did you do?"

"What? Nothing! Nothing happened."

"Okay, House, you're leaving something out. She has a huge crush on you—everyone knows it. So she wouldn't be pissed at you if you kissed her."

"Go on."

"And of course you like her too—"

"I do not 'like her'!"

"Obviously," Wilson commented dryly. "As I was saying, you both like each other. What aren't you telling me? Because something else had to happen for her to be the Ice Queen to you today."

House mumbled something unintelligibly.

"Could you repeat that?"

"I said, 'I kind of freaked and walked out.'"

"YOU DID WHAT? House, you don't do that to a girl!"

"Could you keep it down? Like I need everyone to know I'm a bastard."

"Well, they already know that. I think this would be classified as scum."

"Thanks."

Wilson shook his head and laughed.

"What now," House said, scowling.

"I wish I could have been there to see you get all flustered! That would have been classic."

"I am glad you are enjoying my discomfort."

"Now you know what it feels like."

* * *

Cameron didn't even know what possessed her to do his mail today. Sit in his office and wait for him. To talk things out? Actually, she didn't know if she wanted to talk to him or not. Thankfully, Wilson had saved her from that uncomfortable situation for at least a while longer. Unfortunately, they were going to be alone at some point. It never failed. It's like he sought her out when she was working by herself. Not that she didn't to the same half the time, mind you. But they were eventually going to have to talk. Then it could get ugly.

Like he didn't know she would be supremely pissed at him. She was confused when he walked out on her. First came the hurt and sadness, then she shame, and finally extreme anger. If there was one thing Cameron hated, it was having her emotions toyed with. And House was doing a superb job at just that.

She sighed. _I guess this is what happens when you try to get involved in ANY way with Dr. Gregory House._

But she wasn't going to take this lying down. Cameron wanted--needed to know what he felt. There was obviously something there. She was pissed, yet curious. So she was going straighten her spine, dig deep down and be the biggest bitch possible. Why? Because she knew it got to him. _Worked last time, _she thought to herself with a little smile. _And then maybe I'll finally find out what the fuck is going on in his head._


	11. Attitude

Title: Days Go By 

Summery: Just read…  
Spoilers: Up until "Control"  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: You know I don't own it! I play.

_Author's Note: Hehehehehe! I wrote that last chapter before I knew anything about Tuesday's ep. Makes the Wilson/House interaction there even funnier (to me at least LOL). Plus, over 100 reviews! does a little happy dance YAY!_

_To ACMD: I have no idea what color Cameron's eyes are LOL I figured brown hairbrown eyes!_

_To CENic13: Please don't die! I'll write, I'll write: - )_

_To Mollisk: Heh heh heh. Pretty sneaky on my part huh?_

_To Lilac Elf: Why do you think I started this story after "THAT" episode?_

_To Everyone Else: Thank you so much for reviewing. Sorry I can't answer you all at once, but then my notes would be longer than the chapter LMAO_

**Attitue**

Aside from the episode this morning, it was a nice, peaceful day. It was good to be back at work. Cameron was miserable and bored cooped up in her apartment all week. The only eventful things that happened all day was running into Dr. Wilson a few times. And he kept giving her these looks. _Of course House had to tell him what happened. They're like stupid frat boys sometimes!_ So whenever he gave her that little "I know what's going on and I love it!" smile, she just rolled her eyes and kept walking.

She stayed a few extra hours to catch up on the work she missed while she was out. Finally, around 7pm, she decided to head out. Cameron grabbed her things and made her way to the parking garage. She lived less than a mile away and could probably walk to work, but half the time she was just too lazy.

She started to walk past House's office quickly to avoid him, but slowed down, seeing that it was already dark. Breathing a sigh of relief, she headed towards the elevator. The arrow for DOWN was lit and the door was closing. "Wait," she yelled, speeding up. "Hold the door!"

Just as she reached them, a cane stuck out to stop the doors from shutting. Cameron closed her eyes, counted to 5, then walked in and stood next to House. They rode down in silence.

Finally, House broke the stillness. "How are you feeling?"

"Peachy."

"How about the fever?"

"I wouldn't be here if I still had one."  
He tilted his head and looked at her. She was staring straight ahead doing her best not to pay him any attention. "Yes, you would. At least Wednesday and Thursday of last week."

"No," she said through her teeth. "The fever is gone."

_BING_

The elevator stopped and Cameron darted out the door towards the garage.

"Whoa, flash, what's the hurry?"

She turned to see him struggling to keep up with her. "Why do you insist on following me?"

"Well, there's the car thingy that I drive. And gosh darn it. The whole leg thing. Can't walk to work. I'd fly, but, you know, no superpowers."

"That's right, House. Keep making jokes."

He sighed. "What do you want from me, Cameron?"

She stopped as she reached her car. "Actually, nothing," she said getting in. "I don't want a goddamn thing from you." And shut the door.

"Cameron, wait," he said, moving near the car. Then, he barely had a moment to jump back as she threw the car in reverse and zoomed out of the lot.

"HEY! You can cripple someone that way," he yelled at her retreating car.

* * *

The next day, Cameron walked to work. She strolled into the hospital refreshed, with a smile on her face. That faded when she saw Dr. Wilson heading for the elevator. _Damn. I don't need any of his crap now._

She turned around to head for the stairs. As she past the clinic doors, she was grabbed roughly and dragged into one of the exam rooms.

"Ouch! Hey I need that arm!"

"What was up with that little stunt last night?"

Cameron rubbed her arm and stared at House. "What stunt?"

"Almost hitting me with that pathetic excuse for a car."

"It's called a Volkswagen. And you shouldn't stand so close to someone who's pulling out."

"I just wanted to talk to you."

"About what, huh? How you're a two faced bastard? Because that's about all I have to say to you."

"I'm two faced? You're the one who's had more mood swings than Mommie Dearest."

"No, House, it's called being sick of you."

"And I'm getting sick of this little game of yours, Allison."

"Game of mine," she scoffed. "Sorry, _Greg_, if there's a game going on, you're the only player. I _don't _play games." She turned to walk out. "So leave me alone and go play with yourself."

Wilson saw Cameron storm out of the clinic. He smiled to himself. She wasn't making this easy on him. _Good. He could use a new challenge._ He headed towards the room that she stormed out of.

"So… I'm guessing that went well."

House looked at him with disdain. "You're a real horse's ass, you know that?"

Wilson just laughed.

"That's right, laugh it up," House commented. "You'll see how funny it is when I bash her infuriating head in with my cane."

"Come, come. Let's not get violent."

"Violent? Me? No. Except when she almost runs me down in the parking garage."

"Maybe you shouldn't stand so close to someone who's trying to pull out."

House narrowed his eyes. "Has she been talking to you?"

"Nope. I'm just saying…"

"Yeah, well don't." House left the room with Wilson following.

"I think you could use a drink," Wilson said a few minutes later.

"Really? Could we do shots then give shots? Now that would be fun."

"I meant after work. Let's go to the bar and throw some back. After all, it is Friday."

"What about the lovely wife? Won't she get lonely?"

"She's going to her mother's for the weekend."

"Aah. Ulterior motives for getting smashed. Meet me there at 7."

* * *

Of course they picked a place that was a bar/nightclub. It was loud, smoky and there was dancing. Thankfully, they found a table in the corner across from the dance floor.

"Looking for fresh meat," House asked as they watched the girls dance for a few minutes.

"Wow, you're a riot. I can't control my laughter."

They spent the first hour bullshitting about the regular going-ons at the hospital. Cuddy, Volger, and the random kid with something shoved up his nose. Finally, Wilson couldn't take it anymore. "So, what are you going to do with the Cameron situation?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Come on. You rag on me all the time about my wife—"

"And girlfriends."

Wilson rolled his eyes and continued what he was saying. "So now it's my turn. You like her. She likes you. What's the problem?" He paused. "Wow. I'm having flashbacks to high school."

"We work together. It's awkward."

"So what? Happens all the time. What else?"

"I'm too old for her."

"Yeah, that's crap. Next?"

"She's got baggage."

Wilson laughed. "Like you should talk. You have an entire luggage set and then some."

House was starting to get frustrated. "It's just not possible."

"I think I get it now."

"Get what?"

"You're scared."  
House ignored him and walked to the bar to get a refill.

"Hold up, don't walk away from me." Wilson followed him. "You're scared because things ended badly with Stacy. And you care enough about Cameron not to let that happen again. You don't want to hurt her. So you're avoiding it completely."

"So what if I am?"

"Then you are going to die a bitter, lonely old man."

"I'm already a bitter, lonely old man."

Wilson was staring over House's shoulder at the crowd on the dance floor. "You don't have to be."

House turned around to see what he was staring at.

Cameron, on the dance floor, shaking her ass with all the frat boys.

_I'm not sure about the nightlife in Princeton, but nearly half of the places by Rutgers are bars/nightclubs. So I assume that Princeton has a few. So just believe me LOL_  



	12. Face Off

Title: Days Go By 

Summery: Just read…  
Spoilers: Up until "Control"  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: You know I don't own it! I play.

_Author's Note: I really don't know how much longer this will go…I'm sure dragging it out enough though! But I'm having fun doing it! Hope ya'll like this next installment! ; - )_

**Face Off**

"Wow. Look at her go!"

House whirled on Wilson, eyes flashing with fury. "You planned this. You knew she was going to be here. You set me up."

"No way, House. I swear on my life. I haven't been talking to her. She's been avoiding me like the plague, too."

House turned back to the dance floor, still stiff and agitated.

"Wow. Is that… jealousy I see? Or do you really not like her?"

"Go away before I hurt you."

Wilson smiled as he dropped some tip money of the bar. He stuck his hands in his pockets and whistled a little tune as he walked out. No, he hasn't been talking to Cameron. But Foreman sure knew what she was doing this Friday night.

* * *

It felt good to get out. She asked Foreman and Chase if they wanted to go out with her, but they both declined having other plans. All the better. She needed some alone time.

"Hey, baby, wanna get out of here and have some fun," asked the drunken guy she was dancing with.

"No, I'm just fine here," she said with a smile.

He pulled her in tight. "How bout a little kiss then?"

Cameron tried hard not to retch at the stink of beer on his breath. "Ahh, sorry I don't kiss guys I've just met." She kept pushing at his chest, but he wouldn't let her go. "Hey, I said 'No'!"

"Awe, come on, it'll be fun."

"Ugh! No!" She finally pushed out of his embrace. She turned to walk away. He grabbed her arm and wretched her back to him. "You know you want to."

"Now, I may have been across the room, but I believe all of the pushing and shoving on the lady's part means no."

They both turned around to see House standing next to them. He was holding himself stiffly. _But not because of the pain in his leg,_ she thought. His eyes were bright with anger.

"Who are you, her dad? Back off old man." The guy turned his attention back to Cameron.

Then there was a tapping on his shoulder. "What the hell do you think—"

He didn't finish as House's fist smashed in his nose.

"Let's go," he said, grabbing Cameron's arm.

When they got outside, she wretched out of his grasp. "That's it! What is with all the arm grabbing? In the past 2 weeks, I've been grabbed and pulled around more times than I can remember!"

"Sorry 'bout that."

"And why are you following me?"

"Oh, you're welcome for being saved from a date rapist."

"I could have handled it myself."

"Yes, you were doing fine. You always do fine," he said with a roll of the eyes.

"I just needed a –"

"No," he snapped. "What you need to do is admit you need help sometimes."

"How many times do I have to tell you that I don't need anything, especially from you?" She started to walk away.

And he followed.

"I am not going to leave you alone until you talk to me."

"Am I going to have to get a restraining order against you?"

"Well, that would be fun since we work together."

Cameron stopped and faced him. "What do we possibly have to talk about?"

"What happened the other night."

She let out a non-humorous laugh. "You made abundantly clear what you thought about that."

"Yes." House cleared his throat. "I think I might have made a mistake."

"A mistake? You humiliated me," she said through her teeth. "You've done nothing but toy with me and mess with my emotions since day one. And now you want to 'talk'? I don't think so." She turned to walk away again.

He watched as she walked away. As he stared after her, Wilson's words ran through his head. _"Then you're going to die a bitter, lonely old man."_

No. No he wasn't. He was going to get through to her. Tonight. Even if it killed him. "Suck it up," he muttered to himself. "Life's too short,"

Moving as fast as his leg would let him, he chased after her. "Cameron. Cameron, wait!"

She turned around so she could walk and talk to him at the same time. "What don't you get about me not wanting to talk to you? Weren't you the one preaching about 'no' earlier?"

"I would like to talk like two human beings for once and not argue. It's getting old."

Cameron scoffed. "Yeah? Since when?"

He began to catch up as she crossed the next street. "Since I don't want things to be like this anymore. We need to—ohshit." As he crossed the same street, he stepped in a pothole with his right foot. He dropped his cane and went down like he was shot. "Fucking New Jersey streets. No one ever fixes these goddamn potholes!"

House tried to get up and pain shot through his thigh.

"House, are you okay?" Cameron had stopped when she heard him curse. She saw his bad leg twisted and felt guilt shoot through her. Feeling ashamed for making a man who could barely walk chase her, she started to walk back towards him. "Do you need help?"

"I'm fine," he grunted. "Just give me a minute—ohshit," he said again.

There was a car coming right at him—and not slowing down.

_I live in NJ—and they don't fix the fucking potholes! I broke my ankle 2 years ago stepping in one. grumblegrumble>>>_


	13. Working It Out

Title: Days Go By 

Summery: Just read…  
Spoilers: Up until "Control"  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: You know I don't own it! I play.

**Working it Out**

_Looks like I am going to die a bitter, lonely old man, _House thought as he saw the headlights come toward him.

* * *

Cameron saw the car coming at him. Then she saw him struggling to get up. Petty arguments be dammed. He needed help.

She darted to where he was, grabbed House by the arm and pulled him as hard as possible. He landed on top of her just as the car passed by. The whole process took about 2 ½ seconds.

House leaned up on his elbows so he could glance down at Cameron. A look passed between them: Truce.

"I think you dislocated my shoulder. You're stronger than you look."

"Are you okay," she asked, concerned.

"Taken down by a pothole and a mere slip of a girl. I'm fine. My ego is not."

She smiled. "I guess we're even now… for that thing in the bar."

"Hmm."

"House?"

"Yes?"

"Can I get up?"

They both got to their feet and brushed off their clothes. Cameron went into the street, bent down and picked up something. And again. And again. She turned around and offered the pieces to House.

"I'm sorry."  
He took what was left of his cane from her. "Well, if he couldn't hit me, he could crush my cane." His leg was throbbing, so he reached in his pocket to grab his Vicodin. He shook the bottle. Empty. How the hell did he not realize he had taken the last one? _It's called being preoccupied with the infuriating, yet lovely lady doctor next to you, _he thought to himself.

Cameron was looking at him questioningly.

"I'm out."

"Are you in much pain?"

"Have you ever been stabbed with burning hot pokers?"

"I guess that's a yes."

"Resounding. Thankfully I have more—and a spare cane—at home."

"Where did you park?"

"I didn't. Wilson drove."

"Where is he?"

"He… left."

"He left you here alone? Why?"

"Because I told him to go. He was being a bastard."

"Learned from the best, I'm sure."

"You're hysterical."

Cameron saw him grimace in pain and felt guilty again for not making him more comfortable. "Here, you can lean on me. We'll hail a taxi and I'll help you back."

"I can take care of myself."

"House, you can barely walk."

"And you should know when you're not wanted." He was feeling ashamed, humiliated because of his weakness.

"Well, now, this argument sounds vaguely familiar." She put her arm around his waist. "Tough. You're stuck with me."

Funny how a near death experience can change things between people. Funny how Cameron's arm felt like it belonged there.

* * *

They were silent the entire ride to his place. When they got there she helped him in and led him to the couch to rest.

"Wait… I need to get the Vicodin."

"Just relax. Tell me where it is."

"Bathroom. Above the sink." He closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

Cameron wandered down the hall to the bathroom. She peeked in one doorway. Study. Next one. Bedroom. She resisted the urge to go poke her head around in there. Finally, she found the bathroom. If she couldn't snoop around the bedroom, she got the next best thing. The medicine cabinet. She opened it up. "Bummer," she muttered. Toothpaste, toothbrush, razor, shaving cream and Vicodin. How boring.

She came back out and lobbed it onto his chest. "All yours."

House didn't even open his eyes. He popped open the lid and swallowed two of them. Sighing in relief, he said to Cameron, "Why don't you make yourself useful. Go over to the stereo and put on some music."

"Please?"

"Please, what?"

"It wouldn't kill you to ask nicely, you know."

"Okay. Would you please make yourself useful and put on some music?"

He laughed as he heard her grumble under her breath.

She crouched in front of his extensive CD collection. _What to play, what to play… _He had everything from The Beatles, to Marvin Gaye, from Crosby, Stills and Nash to Weezer, from Classical to Rap. Talk about a guy who appreciated music. She finally decided on Ryan Adams' _Gold_.

"Ahh. Good songwriter. Doesn't get enough recognition." House's eyes were still closed and his head tilted back.

"Mmm. Yep. One of my favorites." Cameron crouched down in front of front of him. She took his right ankle in her hand and started palpating it for any tenderness and swelling.

"Heyheyhey," he said, eyes popping open and head flying up. "What on earth are you doing?"

"I'm checking to make sure you didn't do any other damage when you fell. You already limp, so I couldn't tell if anything else was wrong."

"I told you before, I'm fine." He tried to manually move his leg out of her grasp.

Cameron placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back. "Just sit down and shut up."

"Cameron—"

"No. I don't want to hear it." She went back to the ankle. "Doesn't look like you did any damage to it in the fall. There's no bruising apparent. Does it hurt when I press around?"

"No."

"You have a little blood on your jeans. Looks like you scraped you knee when you fell, though."

"Is mommy gonna put a band aid on the boo boo?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'll clean it up." Then she bit her lip.

Cameron knew she shouldn't do what she was going to do next. It might embarrass him, make him angry. Hell, it might embarrass her. But she had to check.

Her hand moved up his leg to his thigh.

House hissed in pain. "What the _hell_ are you doing?"

"I told you, just checking to make sure you're okay."

"Yes," he said removing her hands. "You don't need to check that. It's always painful."

She reached back down. "I know. But the pain should be centered in this area," she said palpating the rectus femorus. "And I touched you here," she continued pressing against the vastus lateralus. "Am I correct? The damage is to the front thigh muscles, right? So why does it hurt over here?"

"It radiates," he said through his teeth.

"Right," she said, standing up and brushing off her hands. "That's the way you're going to be."

He looked away.

"Fine. Take off your pants. Now. Or I will take them off for you."

_Author's Note:_ _I don't know exactly what House's injury entails, so I just made up where I think the damage is. If I'm wrong, sorry! Rectus femorus top part of the thigh. Vastus lateralus outer part of the thigh_


	14. Fallen

Title: Days Go By 

Summery: Just read…  
Spoilers: Up until "Control"  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: You know I don't own it! I play. Song owned by Ryan Adams.

**Falling**

House gave her a look of disbelief. "Excuse me, but did you just order me to take off my pants?"

"Yes I did. So get moving."

"You've finally gone 'round the bend, woman."

"I'm serious, House. Come on."

"No. No freakin' way."

"I want to clean up your knee and look at your thigh."

"Roll up my pant leg then."

"It won't roll that far up."

"Sucks for you."

"Listen," she said, starting to lose her patience, "I'm giving you the choice to do it yourself or I will forcefully do it. You must really be deranged."

"I'm deranged because I don't want to take off my pants?"

"No, you're deranged because any normal man would jump at the chance to drop trou in front of a 'stunning' – to use your description—woman." She leaned down to look him right in the eyes. "Plus, it's only fair. At least you're awake. I was out cold when you had to strip me."

"Now that's _not _fair," House said, trying not to bring up the images of a nearly naked Cameron. It was extremely difficult.

"Okay, here's the deal. I'm going into the bathroom to try and find something to clean your knee with. When I come back, you had better be de-pants." She went back to the bathroom.

How on earth did he get himself into this mess? Cameron telling him to strip. He must admit, though, this was not the situation he had expected to hear those words. Actually, he never imagined hearing those words until sometime between last week and this week, when he broke down his own walls. With Wilson's help. Which confused him. How could a guy who's been married three times really know that much about women? Maybe it was because he was married three times…

Well now, there was only one thing to do. Obey the lady. And get the scotch.

Cameron walked back into the room with hydrogen peroxide and some cotton. "You really need to straighten up in there. I had to dig around the cabinet under the sink for 10 minutes just to find the peroxide."

"You were only gone for 2."

"Yeah, well you still need to sort shit out."

She looked at him for a second. He must have gotten up, because he now had a bottle of Glenlivet next to him, with a glass half filled. His head was turned away and beneath the stubble, his cheeks had a slight pink tint to them. And the pants were off. 

"Oh dear," she said, with a laugh in her voice, "Is the poor doctor shy?"

"No. Annoyed," he said looking at her.

"Awww. Now see," she said taking in his plain black boxers, "I would have taken you for a tighty whitey man." House just glared at her.

She got down on her knees in front of his leg, examining the abrasion. "It's not so bad. I don't even think you need to cover it. I'll just clean it and it should be fine." She poured some peroxide on a cotton pad.

House looked down at her. "I envisioned this situation in a totally different manner."

Cameron looked up at him, smiled, and placed the peroxide soaked pad on his cut.

"Hey, careful," he hissed, jerking. "That shit burns."

She kept on smiling. "Yes, it does. Now quit being a big baby." She finished up quickly, and moved up to his thigh.

He grabbed her hands before she had a chance to touch him. "I told you, you don't need to look at that."

Cameron looked him in the eyes. She was surprised to see some sadness there. "Yes," she said softly, "I do." She took her hands back and slowly pushed up the leg of his shorts.

House's thigh looked like any other thigh, except for the long, thick white scar that ran from the top to an inch and a half above his knee. It was maybe a bit thinner for lack of muscle, but otherwise a normal thigh. "Does this hurt," she asked, pressing gently.

"It always hurts," he said.

"Humor me, would you?"  
He sighed. "Not any more than usual. The Vicodin should be kicking in anyway."

She moved her hand around the outside of his leg. When she pressed, she heard him catch his breath. Cameron moved her hands and looked down. There was an ugly looking bruise on the outer portion of his thigh. It looked like it was now the size of a baseball, but there were still yellow discoloring that gave away its original stature.

"Oh god, House, what happened?"

House looked at her. "Do you remember anything from Sunday?"

"Just that I fell asleep on the couch after you came and then woke up in my bed the next day."

"Do you know how you got into bed?"

"I guess I got up and walked?"

"Not exactly. You were in lala land from the fever. I put down my cane and helped you to your room."

"And that's how you got that bruise?"

"You passed out halfway there and took me down with you."

"Oh." She flushed slightly.

"Yes. You know the coffee table in the hallway. My leg and the table had a disagreement. The table won." He looked over at her. "Why on earth do you have a coffee table in the hallway?"

"Brian had a problem remembering to take his meds. He thought if he had to pass them every day, he'd remember better." She laughed a little. "I still had to remind him to take them half the time."

An awkward silence filled the room. After a minute, Cameron cleared her throat and said, "Ahh… you could… put your pants back on now. Not much I could do for a bruise. It's too late to ice it."

House finished the rest of his scotch, pulled on his pants and poured himself another glass.

"Can I get some of that?"

He raised his eyebrows at her. "You drink scotch?"

"Why not?"

"Interesting." He wandered into the kitchen to get some ice and another glass. He poured her just a little bit. "Here you go."

Cameron took a sip and her eyes immediately watered. She swallowed hard and tried not to cough.

He laughed. "Do you like?"

She raised her chin and downed the rest defiantly. That bit went down much easier. "Refill."

"Are you going to get drunk? 'Cause if you vomit, you have to clean it yourself."

"I can hold my liquor."

"Care to test that theory?"

"I am not going to have a drinking contest with you!" She sipped some more scotch. The stuff wasn't too bad. Made her feel nice and warm on the inside. She decided to get up and wander around, unconsciously swaying to the music in the background.

"This place isn't half bad."

"I'm so glad you approve," he said, dryly. He got up to follow her.

"Well, it could use some… pictures or something," she commented, finishing her second glass. Was it her, or was it warm in here?

"Ahh. A woman's touch?"

"That's it!"

"Are you offering?"

"Sure," she laughed. "I see a lot of pink in your future."

"I think not."

She laughed again at the look on his face. Then she tilted her head and closed her eyes.

"What's wrong," House asked.

"Nothing. Just listening. This is my favorite song on this album."

_"Ah the night...here it comes again"_

_It's on with the jeans, the jacket and the shirt_

_How'd I end up feeling so bad_

**_For such a little girl_**

Cameron opened her eyes and looked at him. "Want to dance?" The alcohol was making her brave.

"Uh… No."

"Why not?"

"I can't," he said tightly, moving to go sit back down.

She grabbed his cane out of his hands. "What the hell, Cameron?"

"Can't or won't?" She threw the cane on the couch and took his hands in hers. "It's easy. One hand here," she placed his hand on her hip, "and the other here." She placed the other on her opposite hip. "Now just sway." Cameron wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder.

**_And I hold you close in the back of my mind_**

**_Feels so good but damn it makes me hurt_**

**_And I'm too scared to know to how I feel about you now_**

**_La Cienega just smiles..."see ya around"_**

House held himself stiffly and swallowed rapidly a few times. She was doing it to him again. Making him go all soft and un-House like. And she felt really, really good. He couldn't let it happen again. He couldn't be with her. He couldn't…

**_And I hold you close in the back of my mind_**

**_And raise my glass 'cause either way I'm dead_**

**_Neither of you really help me to sleep anymore_**

**_One breaks my body and the other breaks my soul_**

**_La Cienega just smiles as it waves goodbye_**

He was losing the battle.

**_"Ah the night...here it comes again"_**

**_It's off with the jeans, the jacket and the shirt_**

"Allison?"**_  
_**

**_How'd I end up feeling so bad_**

**_For such a little girl_**

"Yes?"**_  
_**

**_And I hold you close in the back of my mind_**

**_Feels so good but damn it makes me hurt_**

"Are you... drunk off those two drinks?"

**_And I'm too scared to know how I feel about you now_**

**_How I feel about you now_**

"No."****

**_La Cienega just smiles and says, "I'll see you around"_**

"Good."

House leaned down and kissed her.


	15. Fighting Temptations

Title: Days Go By 

Summery: Just read…  
Spoilers: Up until "Control"  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: You know I don't own it! I play.

_Author's Note: Wow. Just wow. You guys sure now how to make someone feel great, you know? Spoiling me. I'm going to be expecting 23 reviews per chapter from now on! LOL Seriously though, thanks. I've had a really bad week… you guys really cheered me up. Thanks : - )_

**Fighting Temptaions**

This time it was Cameron who pulled away. "Okay… okay… " she said, tears starting to cloud her voice. "What are you doing?"

"Kissing you," he answered, slightly confused. "I thought that was obvious."

"No, there is very little about you that's obvious." She stepped away to gather herself. "What's going on here, House? You know we're at your place. You can't run away this time."

House had the sense to look ashamed. "Ahem… yes… there's an explanation for that…"

"Really? 'Cause I'd like to know." She stared at him. "Well?"

He turned his head and sighed. "This is difficult." Looking a back at her, he said, "Allison, I can't..." He stopped to gather his thoughts. "I'm not…" He stopped again. What was he supposed to say?

"Wait," she said. "Lemme guess. You can't give me what I want, right? You're not who I think you are, or you're not going to change for me, blah blah blah?" The imminent rejection angered her and her voice started to rise. "You don't know anything!"

"I know enough."

"Kissing a girl twice doesn't count."

"You like your men damaged. You think you can save everyone."

"If that's what you think, you don't know me at all." She grabbed her jacket and purse and stormed out.

Approximately 20 seconds later, his phone rang. _Wilson, J_. House picked up the receiver. "What?"

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me? My spidey sense didn't go off for nothing."

"I did it again."

He heard Wilson sigh on the other end. "What did you do to her this time?"

"She wanted to know why I kept kissing her."

"You kissed her again?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"And what?"

"What happened?"

"She asked for an explanation."

"And you said…"

"I tried to make up some lame excuse about what was going on. But all I could do was stutter." House could practically picture Wilson rubbing his eyes on the other end of the line.

"Why can't you just tell her the truth?"

"I just can't."

"Is this about Stacy again?"

"What? No."

"Yes it is. She left because of the leg. She left because she couldn't take your bitterness and attitude. Cameron wants you despite all of that. Why can't you accept that?"

"Just like I told her. She likes pity cases. When she can't fix me, she'll go and that'll be the end of it."

"Coward."

"Fuck off." With that, House hung up the phone. Then he turned around and whipped the phone into the wall. Plastic pieces went everywhere.

A few seconds later, he heard a sickly ring come from the largest piece. It rang 4 times and then his machine picked up.

"House?" It was Wilson again. "You broke the phone again, didn't you?"

* * *

Cameron walked around for a good hour before she headed home. _How is it when things seem to be going right, they wind up going so damn wrong? Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut and just kept on kissing him. Then what, huh? Have sex and face the awkwardness in the morning instead? I don't think so. Better stop now than later._

She finally found herself in front of her apartment building. Thank god she had the weekend to thing about how to handle things on Monday. It was going to be difficult. She went up to her apartment and went in, going about her business as usual without turning on the lights. Jacket over dining room chairs, keys and purse on table, shoes in corner. Then she made her way into the bedroom to get changed.

Cameron needed to cheer herself up. Fuck it. She dug out one of Brian's old dress shirts and a pair of her favorite hipster panties. There was a six-pack of Heinekens in the fridge and a jillion 80's cds in her I-Pod. It was Risky Business time. Nothing a little beer and dancing couldn't fix.

She figured she'd start off with the original—"Old Time Rock and Roll". She popped the earpieces, pressed play and wandered into the kitchen to grab a beer. Light finally flooded the apartment as she opened the refrigerator. She bent down to grab a Heineken and when she stood up, she screamed and dropped the bottle. It shattered.

You see, Cameron's kitchen was in a horseshoe shape, where the stove area was out of view from the living room, but if you looked over the fridge door, the couch was in full view. And House was planted right in the middle of said couch.

"You didn't let me explain."

"How the _HELL_ did you get in here?"

"You really shouldn't have given Mrs. Johnson a spare set of keys."

"Get out."

"Now, do you really think that's going to work? Didn't last time."

"House, you've made it very clear that you don't want anything to do with me."

"Actually, I remember you finishing my statements for me earlier."

"You were thinking exactly what I said."

"I believe all I said was, 'You like your men damaged.' You said all the rest."

"Whatever. I'm done with your games." Cameron turned, walked into her bedroom and shut her door.

"There you go with the 'whatever' again," he said, following her. "Is that supposed to mean something?"

"It means I'm done with you. Period. Meaning get out of my bedroom!"

"Not until we talk this out."

"No. Every time we talk, shit happens," she said poking him in the chest. "We argue. We make up. We kiss. You become a bastard."

"I admit the first time, I shouldn't have run," House admitted, rubbing his chest where she poked. "But the second time… you didn't give me a chance—"

"NO! You never gave me a chance to begin with," Cameron said, giving him a shove. "My emotions are not your play toys," she said with another shove. "I'm surprised you didn't call Wilson right away and gossip about me." Again with a shove.

"Could you not push the gimp?"

Cameron continued, ignoring his plea. "And I am sick. Sick. Sick! Of you turning on and off like a switch." She moved to shove him again.

"Christ, woman! You should talk about switching on and off!" House grabbed her arms and pulled her to him, pinning her arms by her side. "STOP with the shoving." He looked into her eyes, which were blazing with anger and hurt. Even pissed at him, she was beautiful. Then he kissed her. Again.

She pushed away from him so hard, he stumbled to the ground. "STOP with the kissing," she said, mimicking his voice. She walked to the front door and opened it. "Get out. Now."

House slowly got up. It was over. He walked towards the door and paused in front of her. She turned her head away as he spoke.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I treated you the way I did. I'm sorry I can't express anything properly. I'm sorry for being a bastard all the time. It's not your fault I'm a coward." He stepped out into the hallway. "Good-bye Allison." He turned to walk away.

"House… Wait."


	16. Confrontations

Title: Days Go By 

Summery: Just read…  
Spoilers: Up until "Control"  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: You know I don't own it! I play.

_Author's Note: Don't worry all. I think—finally—House and Cameron are on the same page. And if you can't tell, I love cliffhangers LOL It makes sure people come back to find out what happens. All part of my evil plan of world domination… And I found I have really grown to love writing Wilson dialogue. He's great!_

To Shawcross Gal: You spread the word? WOW. I'm speechless. Thanks! And to anyone else who brought new fans to my story. You have all been absolutely WONDERFUL!

_To Lilac Elf: "This stuff brightens a day clouded over by college finals." Why do you think I said last week sucked? I hope you pass all. I didn't…_

To CSIindiegurl: Nope, I go to community college. Even though I live in NJ, I'm still too poor to afford Rutgers LMAO 

_To Patricia L. Bryans: MOG!_

**Confrontations**

He stopped but didn't turn around.

"What do you mean, 'coward'?"

_Wilson, you had better be right about this coming clean shit. Otherwise I'm going to kill you._ "What do you want to hear, Cameron? That I haven't wanted to get involved with anyone in over 5 years because **I** didn't want to get hurt? That the last person I was with dumped me because she couldn't handle my rapid descent into crippledome and bitterness?" House finally turned to look at her. "That I didn't want you to do the same thing to me that she did. Is that what you want to hear? That I care about you too much to get hurt." He didn't notice that his voice caught. "I may give it good, Cameron, but that's just because I've gotten worse in the past."

"I'm sorry, too." Cameron walked out to stand in front of him and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "But don't think for a minute you're the only one who's ever been hurt. Cripple and bitter or not. You want hurt? Try death, House. You talk about being dumped because of a disability. There is no cure for breakup by death. That's the ultimate pain." Her voice started to crack. "And having been hurt before does not give you carte blanche to play around with someone else's' emotions." She paused and cleared her throat. "And I am sorry. I kind of led you on earlier by making you dance with me, and then trying to figure out what your motives were. That was only because you had burned me once already. What was I supposed to think?"

"I guess we've both been unfair to each other," he stated quietly.

"Yes." She turned and walked back into the apartment. Looking over her shoulder, she said, "Are you coming?"

House took a deep breath and followed her.

* * *

First, she had to get changed. Cameron forgot that she was wandering around in just a shirt and panties. She threw on pants and a tank top, and cleaned up the shattered bottle from earlier. Then she took a seat across from him at the dining room table. They sat in silence.

Finally, Cameron looked up at him. "So… what's going on here?"

"I'm not quite sure myself."

"Listen, House—"

"Wait," he interrupted. "I want to say something. I need to get it out and if it doesn't get said now, there is danger of it never getting said. Just let me say it and you can do whatever you want. Kiss me, kick me, kill me, curse me. Whatever. Just let me say this."

"Okay," she replied quietly.

"It's been a very long time since I've… had someone care about me." He took a deep breath and looked down at his leg. "A long time. I haven't always been a prick, you know. Just a borderline bastard. Yet always bitter."

She glanced at him. "I could tell you had some good in you. You wouldn't be a doctor otherwise."

"Yeah, well if you guard yourself against goodness, you don't get hurt again. You just hurt." He looked at her. "But you – you didn't go away. No matter how I insulted you or degraded you, you kept pestering me like a fly. You have this irritating kindness about you –"

"I'm sorry."

"Let me finish. And before I knew it, you managed to weasel you way into that cold, dark, vacated area in my chest."

"I think that's a hidden compliment."

"Yes, well, if you hadn't noticed, I didn't want you there. But you never hesitated to call me on my shit. And for some reason, you weren't afraid of me."

"I still don't understand why people are."

"Because I'm a bitter, nasty old man."

"Mmmhmmm."

"Shut up and let me finish. I guess what I'm trying to say in my babbling is that I'm so afraid of things ending badly and getting hurt that I push away. It's a defense mechanism." He laughed. "It's the 'It's not you, it's me' spiel. How sad is that?"

"You push away. I push forward. With that limp, I was eventually going to catch up."

"Nice."

Cameron smiled. "That's a lie though. Tonight I gave up. I pushed away."

"And here I am pushing forward. Interesting."

"It's funny how our emotions and mind play with us, isn't it?"

House just nodded. There was another awkward silence. "So… I'm going to go now. I've made a big enough fool of myself for the rest of my life."

"Don't I get to say something?"

"Of course."

She took a deep breath. "Do you like me, Dr. House? I need to know."

He looked at her long and hard. "Yes," he said, quietly. "Yes I do."

"Okay." She smiled.

* * *

**1:00 PM, Saturday afternoon**

House heard ringing through a haze. His cell phone. Where the hell was it? Where the hell were his pants? He stumbled out of bed and found his pants on the floor. He grabbed the phone out of the pocket… and it stopped ringing.

"You have got to be kidding me."

It started ringing again. Wilson. He answered. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Yes. 1 in the afternoon."

"Oh. Really?"

"Yes. I stopped by your place this morning. You weren't there. So I've been calling your cell for the past 2 hours. Where are you?"

"Am I my brother's keeper?"

"What? You don't have a brother. What are you talking about?"

House sighed. "Never mind."

"Listen," Wilson said, getting agitated, "For some godforsaken reason, I care about your welfare. What's going on? Are you okay?"

"House," came a voice from the bed. "Could you tell Wilson to stop yelling? I can hear him all the way over here."

"Sure. James, could you keep it down—"

"Yeah, I heard Cameron," he snapped. "Tell her—" He paused. "Cameron?" House could practically hear the grin spread across his face. "You're at _Cameron's_?"

"Goodbye, Wilson."

"Wait, House, tell me—I guess not," Wilson said as the line went dead. He laughed. "Thank the lord for small favors!"

_A/N: I think there is one more part after this and then… Time to work on a new story! Writing is such good therapy : - )_


	17. All Bets Are Off

Title: Days Go By 

Summery: Just read…  
Spoilers: Up until "Control"  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: You know I don't own it! I play.

_Author's Note: Sorry to all who expected something…uh…more…I can't write the good stuff. Sorry. I have no problem at all with it. I just can't do it. I get that boom-chicka-wow-wow soundtrack going on in my head and I can't picture House and Cameron to that! I know this chapter may seem slightly out of character, but I couldn't help it. The idea just came to me. _

_To all who love Wilson: I am currently contemplating a Wilson-centric fic. I love writing him!_

_To Val'istar En' Alu: YESSSS! My first stalker! Whoo-hoo! LOL_

_To Patricia L. Bryans: MOG! (My new catchphrase.)_

**All Bets Are Off**

_Six days later…Friday at work_

"Something is up."

"Up how?"

"Up with House," clarified Foreman. "He's been… nice lately."

"Yeah, I've noticed too," said Chase. "He hasn't played his yo-yo at all this week."

"He's answering his own mail."

"He's only played his Gambeoy twice—3 days apart!"

"But he still watches his General Hospital every day," Cameron commented entering the room.

Both men looked at her. "I saw him talking to a patient yesterday. A non crazy patient," said Foreman.

"Well, every now and then he does see someone," she said.

"It wasn't even his patient!"

She sighed and suppressed a smile. "Sorry guys, I don't see much difference." She went to go fix herself a cup of coffee.

Foreman turned back to Chase. "You know what? I bet he's finally found a girl."

"House get a girlfriend? No way."

"It has to be. Why else would he be so mellow unless he was getting laid?"

Cameron choked on her coffee. Foreman turned around to look at her. "You would know."

"What makes you say that?"

"With your little schoolgirl crush you're always following him around like a lost puppy. You have to have noticed something."

"Sorry, can't say that I have." She went to add more milk to her coffee when House entered the conference room. "Good morning, little ones."

"Morning."

"Morning."

"Hello."

He wandered over to the coffee station and stood next to Cameron while the men quietly discussed his dating status.

She leaned over and whispered to him, "I think they finally figured it out. They think you have a girlfriend."

"Oh really," he whispered back. He glanced over his shoulder. "Are you ready to blow their minds?"

"Well, I'd rather blow—"

"Hey hey hey! Don't start with that talk, missy. Otherwise we won't get to have our fun here… Well, it would be fun, but… Just shut up and go back over there."

She giggled as she walked away. House sighed. She really did have a dirty mind for such a presentable woman.

Cameron went over and stood next to Foreman. "So. Do you still get that tummy ache whenever you're around him," he asked with a smirk.

"You know, now that you mention it, my stomach doesn't feel right. Dr. House? Could you come here for a minute?"

"What's up," he said, limping over.

"Foreman noticed I wasn't feeling well again. I have this weird ache in my stomach. Any idea what it could be?"

"Hmm. Let me see." He placed on hand on the small of her back and started to palpate her stomach with the other. "Ahh."

"What," she said with mock nervousness. "Is it dangerous?"

"Nope. We diagnosticians call it 'hot for your boss' syndrome."

"Is it serious?"

"Only if it goes untreated."

"Well, what kind of treatment is there?"

"Hot, dirty sex with your boss every 2-6 hours as needed until cured."

"Is that it? Whew. I feel better already!"

"We can start the treatment in about 10 minutes. I think room 211 is empty. We can work there."

"Great," she said, smiling as her pager went off. "Well, I have to go see a patient first. See you in a bit. Hi, Dr. Wilson," she said, passing him as she walked out.

"Hi, everybody," he said, standing in the doorway. "Did I miss anything?"

"You have no idea," Chase said, bewildered.

"Well, I have to go set up to see a patient, so I will catch you all later," House said. "James. How's it going?"

Wilson looked at Foreman and Chases' shocked faces and said to House, "You didn't?"

"I did. Sort of."

"You scarred them for life and left them to figure it out on their own?"

"Yep."

"God, you're sick."

"No. Just creative." He patted him on the shoulder. "See you later."  
Wilson walked into the room to talk to Chase and Foreman. "So, what happened?"

"The most disturbing thing ever," Chase answered.

"Has everyone here gone on drugs," Foreman asked.

"Oh, you mean you guys didn't know?"

They both looked at Wilson as it dawned on them.

"No, no way!"

"You can't be serious!"

Wilson laughed as both men looked extremely uncomfortable. "Yes. Last week. It's official."

Foreman sighed. "Why am I the last to know anything?"

"Don't feel so bad. I don't think Cuddy knows yet."

"Oh, Christ."

"But anyway," Wilson continued, "pay up. A hundred bucks a piece."

* * *

House and Cameron lay on the bed in 211, laughing. "Their faces were priceless! I would have paid to see a reaction like that."

"I wish we had a camera with us," he replied. "That was classic." Then he felt his pager go off. "Eh, it's just Wilson."

Cameron handed him the phone from the bedside and he dialed Wilson's office. "What?"

"You still have to work with Chase and Foreman, you do know that?"

"Come on. You can't tell me that wasn't priceless."

Wilson chuckled. "They did look stupefied."

"You didn't happen to have a camera with you?"

"Sorry, no."

"Damn."

"Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks. I won $200 bucks on you two."

"How's that?"  
"Chase and Foreman both bet me a hundred each that you would never go for Cameron."

"And you being the genius that you are…"

"Saw it coming a mile away. You just needed a little push."

"Shove is a better word," Cameron chimed in. House looked at her. "What? Wilson is loud." She grabbed the phone from him. "Speaking of money, you owe me fifty bucks yourself."

"You didn't…"

"We're in room 211 as we speak."

"Shit."

"I expect payment by the afternoon." She handed the phone back to House.

"What was that about," he asked Wilson.

"I bet Cameron that you guys would christen the hospital in the clinic. She said in a regular room."

House covered the mouthpiece and said to her, "So I guess we shouldn't tell him that we still have our clothes on?"

"Hell, no! Fifty bucks is fifty bucks!"

"You're incorrigible."

"I learned from the best," she said, giving him a wink.

_**THE END**_


End file.
